When the Water Turns Red
“We hope you can help us find him, David. But please, answer our questions."'' The interrogator sat before me, Pen and paper at the ready, one-way window to my right, the whole nine yards. We were all here for one thing: What happened to Jacob? The man reviewing me, his face, it just… didn’t look right. It was slightly obscured by the lamp light shining in my face, so I couldn’t completely see it, but it was like he was… smiling. The whole time. I had no idea why, but he kept talking. ''“David? Are you listening? Where did you last see him?” I snapped out of my facial observation and tried to focus on where I saw him last. It was two weeks ago, on a Wednesday, near Bobs’ Quick and Go. I was there to buy a soda-pop with Jacob. The cashier smiled at me while scanning the Cola bottle. “Will that be all?” “Yes.” He handed me my soda. I looked over at Jacob, waiting for him to buy his snacks. But he just stood there, dumbfounded, looking like he had just seen a ghost. I gave him a little nudge, and he gasped slightly, spilling his Cola on his Cyclones shirt. He whispered a curse, and handed the cashier his Cola. But he refused to look the man in the eyes. The cashier just kept smiling. Everyone seemed to be in a good mood that day. We left the building, the double-doors announcing our exit. I wanted to ask him what was wrong. “Jacob?” “I know. I’m just a little shook today. Financial stuff.” I felt like he was lying to me, but his dad had just pulled up. He gave me a weak wave with his hand, and slid the van door open. “I’ll see you around, Dave.” “Yeah. See you.” The interviewer continued with his questions: “What about Jacobs’ father? What was he like?” I gave a little chuckle at the question. His dad was a fun guy. He always took us to parties, always eager to give me a ride, always cracking jokes, just mostly good times. But lately, I would have to admit, he has been a little weird. Ever since Jacob disappeared, he just kept on going. Still joking, still happy, still moving. I assumed it was just his way of coping with grief, but it’s almost like Jacob disappearing gave him a boost. I went to his house recently to give him some support, but as I left, I heard on the radio that he had disappeared just then. Weird. The interviewer laughed for God knows what reason, and pressed on: “We understand you and your friends, including Jacob, liked to experiment with illegal drugs in the past?” I remember that like it was yesterday. My mom sold me out to the cops about two years ago for an ecstasy addiction. It was great. My friends and I would pop a couple pills and head out for the night. We would hit all the bars and parties in the entire city. Good times. I remember one club I found to be strange. Its name was weird already: “The Vibe”. Nonetheless, we went and had a good time. But this girl I met there, she just smiled the whole time. Even while she was puking from all the beer she had. I don’t know if it was the drugs, but a black figure dropped a pill in her drink. I never saw her again. Weird. My hands were stained red the next morning. Probably from all the fruit juice I had drank. “Very interesting, David.” The interviewer hit a button, and two bouncers came in the room. He gave them a little motion, and the two men picked me up. I tried to move my arms, but I realized they had been tied down since I got here. I screamed and kicked, begging to be let go. But they were too strong. They dragged me down a grey hall. I could hear the screams of other men near me. I begged that this was all a dream, that I would wake up and see Jacob and we would go out and have a good time. Just like old times. I heard a metal door creak and the two men threw me in a small padded cell. I waited there for hours, but finally, Jacob came to visit me. And his dad, my mom, and even the cashier. The women from the club was there too. All of them said they wanted me to come with them. I agreed. Anything to get me out of this place. They opened the door, and I saw two bloody bodies, resembling the two men that carried me in here. I stood, and went out the door, but two men with guns blocked my way. I tried to push past them, but I felt a burning sensation in my thigh. Smoke emerged from the man’s firearm. They both began to beat me, both of them smiling. I was smiling too. Almost bursting out laughing from the joy I was feeling. This was great. I don’t get visited often. Category:Mental Illness